


Doctor Vincent Phantomhive

by PandoraButler



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hannibal AU, M/M, Serial Killer, Violence, lots of characters will die, serial killer au, undertaker is adrian crevan, undertaker is will graham, vincent is hannibal, vincent phantomhive is a dapper ass bitch murderer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29988933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandoraButler/pseuds/PandoraButler
Summary: Adrian Crevan works for the F.B.I. to help solve serial killer cases.
Relationships: Angelina Dalles | Madame Red & Vincent Phantomhive, Angelina Dalles | Madame Red/Vincent Phantomhive, Vincent Phantomhive & Bravat, Vincent Phantomhive & Undertaker, Vincent Phantomhive/Bravat, Vincent Phantomhive/Undertaker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

"Hello," he smiled from behind his desk. "Are you Mr. Adrian Crevan?" he asked, staring at his notes. It was a nicely bound leather journal. This space was clean. Almost too clean. It felt extremely distant and yet somehow comfortable all the same. Adrian stared at him and blinked, adjusting his glasses and moving his fringe to behind his ear, even though it would just fall out of place all the same. His hair was up in a long ponytail and his suit felt too warm in this room, even though the room was quite cold. 

"It would appear you have been referred to me due to the nature of your work. Have you been to a psychologist before?" he asked smiling pleasantries. Adrian walked in and closed the door behind him properly. 

"I don't need to go to therapy. I'm fine. I really don't know why this is an issue," Adrian muttered. 

"Everyone needs some sort of therapy. Even I go to therapy regularly," he assured. 

"I'm supposed to get a psych eval, that's all I want, leave the therapy stuff out of it," Adrian insisted. 

"Right," he nodded and filled out the paper rather quickly. He held it out for Adrian to grab. "I have no interest in treating someone that doesn't wish to be treated." 

"Isn't that...against the rules?" Adrian walked forward and took the paper. 

"Consider it a sign of our friendship. Now," he stood up and adjusted his vest. "Let's have a conversation." 

"W-What?" Adrian blinked, folding the paper and putting it in his breast pocket. 

"Why were you being requested to me specifically?" he turned around and went to the bookshelf in the corner. He scanned them but didn't pick anything up. 

"William, he," Adrian paused, crossing his arms. "He is concerned about me but not enough to send me to an F.B.I. guy. He wants this off the record but can't avoid sending me to anyone after the last case." 

"The last case?" he looked over his shoulder, not showing interest but being interested all the same. 

"It does a lot on me, you know? What I do...I feel a lot of things...and," Adrian sighed and finally sat down in the lounge chair. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "The last case I did, I _felt_ what it was like to murder," Adrian hunched over and stared at his hands. He practically saw blood on them. 

"What you do," the male walked over to the opposing chair and folded his hands neatly on his legs. "You get into the mind of these murderers, correct? You feel what they feel and try to think how they think?" 

"I'm a psychologist professor at a university but I'm mostly there because of my research. They wanted me to teach because they thought I would make a good fit for the position...and they wanted to replace me in the research department. I use my knowledge and my acute sense of empathy to reconstruct the minds of the murderers' thought processes," he explained. "That's my job now. That's what I do. William forced me out of the teaching job to use my talents, as he calls them." 

"You don't consider it to be a talent?" 

Adrian looks up to properly stare at the man for the first time. He has a permanent smile on his face. Usually, people surrounding Adrian have a little metaphorical percentage over their heads to various key emotions. 50% sad, for example. This man, however, has nothing. He has perfectly masked all of the exhibits of human emotion on the face. It was interesting, slightly terrifying, but above all else, it was a relief. He didn't have to feel whatever this man was feeling because he wasn't necessarily feeling anything. Not even shock about his state of being or what Adrian did for work. 

"Not when William tells me to come here for a psych eval," Adrian chuckled. "This sort of work isn't healthy for me." 

"Your last case," he began, "what about it caused you to come here? You mentioned that you felt what it was like to murder, what did you mean by that?"

"I shot someone," Adrian readjusted his glasses. "It was self-defense but it was enough to know."

"Enough to know?" 

"Enough to know what it's like to kill someone. He survived, but I'm here so...obviously, it's messing with me somehow. I saw the light leave his eyes and then I tried to remedy my mistake and bring him back." Adrian realized now, that he was actually getting something of a therapy session. He snapped up in his chair and stared at him, bewildered. 

"Is he back?" 

"Yes, but-" 

"So, you're not a murderer. Therefore, it would be odd for you to assume you know what it would feel like to murder. Especially when you did this in self-defense. "

"Stop it," Adrian raised his hand and then crossed his arms. "I know what you're doing," he frowned. 

"What am I doing?" he smiled, tilting his head. Or rather, the smile never left his face. 

"You've set me up for a roundabout method of therapy by pretending this is just a conversation. I fell for it," Adrian huffed, moving his thumb to his mouth to bite his nail. "I know about all these methods, which is why I haven't been able to have therapy, and you..." 

"I'm a rather exceptional doctor," he chuckled. 

"What is your name?" 

"Dr. Vincent Phantomhive," he introduced himself. "Feel free to call me Vincent, since I did say that we were entering a conversation. There is the possibility for a friendship."

"A friendship?" 

"Where you talk to me and we tell your friend William it's therapy," he chuckled. "That way you may avoid the system but if you feel you are going off of the deep end I will be able to notify you and assist in your cases." 

"He's asked you to monitor me, hasn't he? He asked you to follow me around on these cases and offer advice on how to manage me." 

"Yes, in a way," Vincent nodded. 

"Great," Adrian stood up and made his way for the door. "I don't care how good you are at your job. I won't have you interfering with mine," he sneered, exiting. 

"Interesting," Vincent muttered, "I thought the job you were more concerned with was your teaching and research profession..." 


	2. Chapter 2

"There's another one that's shown up."

Adrian watched the students leave as William walked up to him. "What are you doing here?" 

"Didn't you hear me?" William crossed his arms. "Another one has shown up." 

"Another one of what?" Adrian clicked his tongue in disgust. "That could mean a number of things, William, like maybe another stray dog has shown up on my doorstep. Why can't you just tell me that news once in a while?" 

"Don't you have enough?" William raised an eyebrow slightly. 

"Absolutely not." Adrian was determined to save every stray he came upon. Dogs. Cats. Birds. Whatever happened to be lying in front of his door he would save. 

"Another girl has shown up," William took out a photo from his breast pocket. "In a field this time..." he looked disgusted. William rarely looked disgusted. He didn't let murders get to him, that's why he was so good at his job. Adrian took the photo and glanced down. Only a glance. That's all he needed. He shoved it back into William's hand. 

"That's not the same killer," Adrian held his mouth, threatening to vomit. "That's not the same at all. No one with empathy...even a slight amount...would do that. He has no mourning. Someone that would try to remedy his mistake would not do something so horrid directly after. There is no guilt." 

"There is a copycat?" William didn't seem to believe it. 

"Yes, apparently so, but I doubt he will kill like this again," Adrian shook his head. "He just wants to make the world aware of his existence. Maybe he just wanted to admire the killer from beyond. Who knows? In any case, we can't catch him from this murder so just put him on the back burner." 

"That's not very helpful." 

"No, but now the real killer knows he has friends," Adrian started biting his thumbnail. "And now we know that there are more of these killers out there." 

"We can't solve what we don't know," William turned on his heel. "Try to come up with some insight about our real killer before he gets another one." 

...

"You're back?" Vincent opened the door and appeared slightly shocked. "Welcome back to my office. Would you like a cup of tea?" he smiled, taking a step to the side and gesturing for Adrian to enter. 

"I'm here for some insight, but tea sounds nice," Adrian nodded and walked in. 

"I thought you weren't very interested in conversations," Vincent guided Adrian to his kitchen. He watched as the doctor placed a kettle on his stove. 

"I'm not, this isn't about me. It's about my case. And since you've been handpicked by William, I am nearly certain that you're allowed to help me with my profiling." 

"Feeling a lack of confidence in your abilities?" Vincent moved to his cabinet and grabbed a jar of loose leaf tea. It smelled great, even from all the way across the kitchen. Adrian leaned up against the counter and grabbed the edges. That was nice. That was a damn nice smell. 

"Do you make your own tea?" 

"Answering a question with a question? My, you do study psychology," he chuckled and then nodded. "Yes, I make my own tea. Although I do have a few favorites from a specialty store. I also have a small garden for herbs." 

"That's quite the dedication to tea." 

"I think you'll find that I am a very dedicated individual," Vincent turned his head over his shoulder for a moment to make eye contact while smiling. "So dedicated, in fact, that I'm borderline obsessive. But, that makes me a good doctor to my patients." 

"I am not your patient, Dr. Phantomhive." 

"Indeed," he nodded. The kettle started to whistle so he took it off the stove. He'd already prepared two mugs with biodegradable tea bags filled with his specialty homemade tea. He walked over to Adrian and handed him one. "So, tell me, why are you honoring me with your visit? What insight do you require?" 

"I'm glad you consider it to be an honor," Adrian chuckled. "I'm having a hard time finding the thread between victims. They all look the same but I can't find their link outside the age range." 

"What is the age range?" 

"Entry-level to university." 

"This is about the hunter killer, yes?" 

"What?" 

"The one that kills and utilizes body parts. Has to be a skilled hunter, the organ gathering can't be taken any other way. He isn't a doctor but he is skilled all the same." 

"You got all that from the news?" Adrian nearly spat out his tea. 

"Not the news, no, just a very adamant website. Nothing more than a nosy reporter gathering evidence but it's interesting all the same." Vincent took a sip of his tea. "He is cannibalizing his victims. Stealing prized organs and making a showcase of the rest that wasn't able to be used. It's his way of making sure nothing goes to waste. A hunter's moral code." 

"Yes, I know that. I'm trying to find the link between his victims here." Adrian was tempted to roll his eyes but he just frowned and took a sip of his tea. 

"The question you should be asking yourself is not how they are linked, but why he is cannibalizing them. If you find the answer to that, you'll be able to find out who he is. Look for people in the area that fit the criteria. Watching them will help you find the truth." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"My, my, did you come here for insight or for the answers?" Vincent chuckled. "I believe I am your conversation, not the person to do your job." 

"Thank you for the tea, Dr. Phantomhive," Adrian placed the mug down. 

"Any time, Mr. Crevan." 


	3. Chapter 3

"You were right."

"I often am," Vincent agreed, placing a book back on its shelf. "What was I right about this time?" 

"He is cannibalizing these girls because they look like his daughter and he doesn't want to lose her. She is applying to schools and each one she has gone to an orientation for," Adrian sighed, "he kills someone that looks like her." 

"The father doesn't wish for the daughter to leave the nest."

"I need you to come with me," Adrian said. 

"That's a bit demanding," Vincent chuckled. "Not even going to ask me out on a first date?" 

Adrian didn't understand at first. He stared blankly for a moment and then his face lightly flushed. "I didn't mean-" 

"Where are we going, Mr. Crevan?" Vincent walked toward him to stand directly beside him. They faced opposing directions until Adrian turned around. "We're going to his workplace to see if we can find something about his copycat. A phone number. Anything." 

"Why are my services required?" 

"Because you're supposed to follow me around, remember? To keep my mind from getting too dark." 

"You're not a fan of telling the truth, are you? At least to yourself, anyway," Vincent chuckled again. 

"Fine," Adrian rolled his eyes. "I think you might be useful in finding out something when we go to investigate his house." 

...

Adrian and Vincent fumbled through multiple papers trying to look for a phone number or someone that might've been a friend. There wasn't anything here and the receptionist didn't seem to know any of his associates either. The guy was rather reclusive. 

"Claude Faustus," Adrian couldn't help but laugh. "What a name." 

"Especially for a killer," Vincent nodded in agreement. 

"We aren't finding anything here so," Adrian stretched his arms out and made his way to the exit. "Let's head out." 

"If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I require the use of the facilities," Vincent gestured to the restroom. 

"Oh, I don't mind?" Adrian shook his head but chose to wait in the car all the same. 

Vincent paused a moment, waiting for Adrian to walk down the steps outside the door. He moved over to the receptionist's desk. Luckily she had vacated the area in order to give them some space. This was more like a small travel home than a real office. Vincent dialed the number on the ancient phone and picked it up. He was a man that always wore gloves for these specific reasons. 

"Hello?" someone far too young on the other side. 

Vincent held the phone away from his face for a moment to clear his throat. He adjusted the pitch to his voice slightly and formulated an accent. "Ah, is dis 'ere da Faustus's?" 

"Yes?" 

"If ya don' very much mind, can ye giff da phone to yer Pa?" 

"Okay...?" 

There was some shuffling on the other side and a new voice to say hello. Except, it wasn't hello. "Who is this?" a disgusted but formal voice. Hard to believe this was a hunter. 

"They're coming for you," Vincent's voice, just like usual, and his lips curved upward slightly before he hung up abruptly after. He traveled to the bathroom, removed his gloves, washed his hands, and placed them back on. 

"Ready to go investigate the suspect's home?" Adrian asked when Vincent got into the car. 

"Ah, yes, my favorite thing to do." 

"Your gloves are wet..." Adrian noticed. Just as Vincent thought, he was quite observant as well as being a master of the human mind. 

"Air hand dryers. They rarely dry your hands," Vincent shook his head, very disappointed. "But, the things we do for mother nature." 

"Well, here..." Adrian leaned over, well into Vincent's space, to open up the glove box. He pulled out a small towel and some spare gloves. Vincent got a whiff of Adrian's shampoo. He couldn't help himself and had to sniff again. A very nice smell. Citrus? Something else too. Vincent's nose was very keen. 

"You keep gloves in your glove box?" Vincent nearly beamed with his smile after Adrian returned to his seat. 

"I do..." Adrian blinked, not understanding why this was something to be excited over. 

"I apologize, I just..." Vincent reached out to grab the gloves. His wet hand grazing Adrian's slightly. "Find that both amusing and very refreshing." He could feel Adrian's hand almost lean into his slight touch. He stared into his eyes and through the small glare on his glasses, he could see the faint pupil dilation. A quickened heartbeat, most likely. Signs of attraction. 

"We should..." Adrian's voice cracked. "We should get going." He started the car. Vincent took off his wet gloves, dried his hands more thoroughly, and then placed the new gloves on. He wrapped his gloves in the small towel and placed them in his pocket. 

"Yes, we should." 


End file.
